


Fragile Dream

by sempre_balla



Category: CLAMP - Works, X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: Angst, M/M, kamui is sad and subaru gives some really bad advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23964100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempre_balla/pseuds/sempre_balla
Summary: “I dream of him nearly every night. Most times he’s hurting me, but other times he’s gentle. He holds me and kisses me and talks to me like he cares. Like I’m precious to him.”“But you wake up.”
Relationships: Monou Fuuma/Shirou Kamui
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Fragile Dream

**Author's Note:**

> here's a fuukam drabble I wrote for [my best friend](https://twitter.com/tamensou/)'s birthday, I don't know how to tag it but it's short and sad and there's implied seisub in the background

Kamui knew that his dreams were delusional. He was perfectly aware that this was not his reality, that he should not dwell on it only to wake up to the sorrow and disappointment that was quickly becoming commonplace in his life. 

But the hand on his face was warm, and the eyes he was looking into were kind. The comforting presence of Fuuma Monou was pulling him in and he found himself unable to stop his motions as he buried his face into his broad chest, letting his tears wet the dark fabric. 

“Hey, now,” a familiar deep voice murmured, arms wrapping around his waist and his back to pull him in, erasing the distance between their bodies. “Why are you crying? Everything will be fine.”

Kamui knew it wouldn’t be. Nothing would be fine, nothing would ever be how it should be—how it used to be—because Kotori was gone. Still, this was a dream, and the Fuuma that was holding him was the Fuuma of his memories. The one whom he loved, the one who cared, the one that Kamui missed so desperately. He wrapped his arms around Fuuma’s waist and squeezed, not wanting to lose himself in this dream but dreading having to pull away even more. 

He’d talked to Subaru about these dreams he was having once. The thing about dreaming was that Kamui couldn’t trust it anymore. He couldn’t know what was a fabrication of his own mind or what was a dreamseer’s meddling. He had no certainty that what he was seeing was private or if someone else was spying on him, tapping into his dreams to grasp his weaknesses—not that it was a secret that Fuuma was his biggest weakness, but he still didn’t want anyone to see him like this. 

“If you’re seeing what you want to see the most,” Subaru had said, “then it’s probably your own dream.”

“But what if I fall into it again? What if I can’t come back without you?”

“That dream was special,” the man replied, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray. “You’d just been through something really traumatic. I’ve been having dreams like the ones you’re dreaming for many years now.” 

“You have?” 

“Of course. I dream of him nearly every night.” Subaru had shrugged, a perfect picture of indifference. Kamui knew otherwise, though. He knew how much Subaru cared. “Most times he’s hurting me, but other times he’s gentle. He holds me and kisses me and talks to me like he cares. Like I’m precious to him.”

“But you wake up.”

“I wake up every time, without fail. That’s why I’m not afraid to indulge myself a little when these nicer dreams come to me.” Subaru had paused as if he was considering his words. “Something like that will never happen but it’s still… nice, in a way. To feel the warmth he will never give me.”

_ That’s so sad, _ Kamui had thought. However… “I understand.”

“Of course you do.” Subaru had smiled, extending an arm. “C’mere.”

They’d hugged much like Kamui was hugging the Fuuma in his dream now, but it’d felt different. It surely felt different for Subaru too, hugging the Sakurazukamori that his imagination conjured up for him. Kamui and Subaru found a type of comfort in one another that no one else could give them, but they could never give themselves what they needed the most. They could never fulfill each other’s wish. 

“I still haven’t given up on getting you back,” Kamui whispered against Dream Fuuma’s chest. “But you’ll never be able to hug me like this again, will you?”

“What are you saying?” Fuuma replied, a fond smile clear in his voice. He pulled back only slightly to cup Kamui’s cheek and lift his face so their eyes could meet. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You’ll be gone when I wake up,” Kamui whispered, taking Fuuma’s wrist to keep his hand where it was and nuzzling his face against his palm. He closed his eyes, unable to keep looking at Fuuma’s warm brown eyes without feeling tears pooling in his own. “And I’ll come get you, Fuuma, I promise I’ll come get you. But we won’t be able to be like this anymore.”

“Why not? I want to be with you.” 

“Oh, Fuuma…” Kamui said, his voice breaking. Fuuma stroked his cheek with a thumb and Kamui had to bite back a sob. “I also want to be with you. More than anything, I want this to be real…”

“But…?” Fuuma asked, looking at him with wide, questioning eyes. Kamui smiled sadly, shaking his head.

“But it can’t be. The both of us as we are right now can’t exist together anymore.” 

Dream Fuuma said nothing in reply, only furrowing his brows. He moved his hand to hold Kamui’s nape and pull him into his chest, giving him another tight, almost desperate hug. Kamui closed his eyes and breathed the other boy’s scent in. 

He didn’t mind the lack of words. The Fuuma in his dreams only ever said vague sweet-nothings, he was not someone Kamui expected answers from. The one thing he wanted was this—this comforting warmth that the real Fuuma would not give him; this delusion of a love long gone, a love that Kamui did not know how to get back without sacrificing everything that he was and the feelings and expectations of everyone that surrounded him. He wished there was another way, but life just wasn’t that simple, and something like being able to stay with Fuuma like this, safe and beloved in his arms, was not possible anymore.

So when Fuuma wordlessly pulled back—not enough to withdraw his warmth, but just enough to tip Kamui’s head up once more—Kamui let him. He expected what came after that, so he closed his eyes and let himself relish the blissful press of Fuuma’s lips against his. The sweet kisses weren’t a novelty in his dreams, but they were not something that had ever happened between them. It was something he had certainly wanted, but he had never gotten the time to pursue it before Kotori died and Fuuma became the “Kamui” of the Dragons of Earth. Kamui did not even know if this was what kissing Fuuma felt like—hell, he didn’t even know if this was what  _ kissing _ felt like, but he still let himself get lost into it. Like every other night, like every other dream, he closed his eyes and let go, completely trusting Fuuma to support his weight, to kiss him silly until his worries slipped away from his mind and the tension left his body. Fuuma held him tight as he kissed him again and again and again; so warm and so solid it almost felt real. 

But Kamui knew what this was. He knew it was an unhealthy, selfish indulgence that his mind had conjured up to help him cope with reality, an illusion of something that would never happen no matter how hard he wished for it. 

Kamui let a broken sob interrupt their kisses, and the grip the older boy had on him tightened, quickly becoming painful. Kamui gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as strong arms squeezed his body more and more. He wound his own arms around Fuuma’s back, gripping the fabric that covered it and hissing when he felt something inside him  _ crack _ . 

“This… isn’t your fault,” he managed to bite out, whimpering when Fuuma only squeezed him tighter. He felt the slide of something warm and wet on his neck, travelling up to his cheek and wiping his tears. Fuuma’s tongue, a sensation he had experienced outside of his dreams several times since Fuuma had turned. “I’ll… find a- ah… way, Fuuma…”

“You won’t,” Dream Fuuma said, his voice low and threatening. 

“I will,” Kamui replied. “I’ll find you.”

Instead of giving a reply, the Fuuma in his arms vanished in a flash, leaving Kamui’s hands gripping the air. He looked down at them and saw the twin scars on his palms; one smooth and uniform and the other jagged and rough—the marks of sword and glass, a sign of Fuuma’s impact on his body. Kamui closed his eyes and held his own hands close to his chest, trying to curl protectively around them, around the one thing that Fuuma had left for him besides a severed head and a broken heart. 

When he next opened his eyes, he was in his bedroom, the early morning light filtering through his curtains. He sighed, briefly looking at his hands before hugging his own stomach. His bedroom was too big and too empty for him, and it reminded him why indulging in the illusion of Fuuma his dreams provided him wasn’t smart. Waking up alone was just too painful. 

“It’s cold,” he murmured. “Fuuma…”

**Author's Note:**

> thnks for reading!! this fic's title is taken from the lyrics of secret sorrow, the x anime's ending, not to be confused by the hit 2009 videogame fragile dreams: farewell ruins of the moon, which you should all play anyway


End file.
